


Don't You Forget About Me

by Lunarflare14



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Absent Parents, Alludes to Past Abuse and Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Detention, Divorced parents, Explicit Language, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Loathing, Tags May Change, Underage Drug Use, Vague Allusions to the Breakfast Club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarflare14/pseuds/Lunarflare14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were three messed up kids with nothing in common; a washed up jock, a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, and a complete psychopath.</p><p>If they survive their Saturday detention, they just may leave the place as friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

 

Mr. De Santa pulled up to Los Santos Community High School. “I get it, son. I really do. He was mackin’ on your girl—“

“No one says ‘macking’ anymore, _Dad_ ,” Michael Townley growled out, putting a bit of bite in the title Mr. De Santa had claimed when he married Michael’s mother about five years back. He didn’t turn to look at the older man, opting to stare at the ugly beige building that would be his prison for the next eight hours. It was Saturday. He could be doing something—anything else. Instead his stepfather was driving him to detention at an ungodly hour. He hadn’t bothered looking presentable; his pants could probably use a wash but the shirt was clean and the letter man jacket could distract from both those things if he actually cared.

“Maybe this will be good for you, a wakeup call. Ever since you left the team—“

“I was kicked off the team. I didn’t leave. Coach Madrazo is a dick.”

The older man nodded. “I know; I went to high school with him. But you’ve got to stay focused. You’ll never get into a good college if you keep picking fights.”

Michael stopped staring out the window to turn and snap at his stepfather. “I wasn’t picking a fight! That French douchebag had his dick pressed against my girlfriend’s ass downward dog style.”

“Language.”

Michael steeled himself, glaring harder. “Fuck you.”

Mr. De Santa sighed. “That temper is going to get you into serious trouble."

“Wow, and here I thought I already was in serious trouble. My life sucks; the team won’t talk to me now, my girlfriend cheated on me and dumped me for a French health nut, I’m in detention, I’m stuck with you as a father. What could be worse?” He crossed his arms and slumped back in his seat. That wasn’t fair. Mr. De Santa was trying, but Michael just couldn’t care less. Not about the man who wasn’t his father. Not about the cockbite that was his coach. He didn’t give a shit about any of it.

“Have you been going to your guidance counselor appointments?”

Michael didn’t answer. Just then the janitor arrived, ten minutes to seven, and unlocked the door.

Michael grabbed the door handle to leave the car and Mr. De Santa grabbed his shoulder. “I know you don’t like talking to him, Mike. But you need to talk to someone. Bottling all this stuff up only makes it worse.”

Shaking off the adult’s hand, Michael got out of the car. “Just leave me alone.” He shrugged on his book bag and headed into the building without looking back. He gave the Janitor a little wave. “Hey, Norton.”

 

* * *

 

Denise Clinton drove Franklin up to the steps of LSCHS as another car drove off down the street. “Ungrateful urchin. Always causing trouble. You should be grateful. I work hard to put food on the table and cloths on your back and what do you do? Get detention on a Saturday. Child, I didn’t pull you out of Davis High so you could get back involved in that delinquent shit. You’re lucky they didn’t put you in jail for stealing that kids bike. If your mother, God rest her soul, if she could see you now, how—“ Franklin slammed the door to the car and headed for the building. He could hear her yelling out the window but he ignored her. He didn’t have time for this shit anyway.

He didn’t steal that kid’s bike. That was all Lamar and there was no way he was snitching on his home boy like that. LSCHS was full of entitled, shitty millennials with too much paper to give a shit about his sorry ass. Especially when he was rocking Checkout! brand sneakers, a Families baseball cap, and a general lack of respect for his peers.

Franklin almost missed Davis High, and that place was a shit hole.

Once he got to the stairs he slowed down. The nerd kid Lester was climbing them too, wheezing a little and waving as the car he must have gotten out of drove off. The women driving it didn’t seem angry enough for dropping her kid off at school for detention.

“Yo man, you alright?” Franklin asked, holding the door as Lester hobbled inside.

The nerd kid shrugged. “No big deal, just my asthma acting up.”

Franklin nodded as he slipped in behind him. “What you get in trouble for?”

Lester shrugged. “I’m not here for detention. I volunteer in the library by helping digitize the card system. Honestly I probably should be expelled by now, let alone given detention. Not that they could pin what I did on me, but they can’t give you detention without evidence.”

“That’s really… forthcoming of you.”

Lester shrugged. “Well, Franklin, you could tell someone but no one would believe you. I’m an A student and you’re a two bit hoodlum—no offence.”

“Fair point.” Franklin frowned. “Why would they expel you? Hypothetically.”

“Let’s just say I compromised my class'… academic integrity.”

“Oh…” Franklin thought about all the things that could mean. It was probably some kind of mass cheating. “Well dang, the whole class? Mad respect.”

“Thanks… Dog. But I’m nothing to worry about. Let’s just hope we survive the day, alright?”

Franklin frowned. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Lester laughed before he fell into a fit of coughs. “Oh, you’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

A lanky teenager with crazy dark hair emerged from an alleyway across the street from the high school. His jeans were fraying around the cuff from being doing too long for him. He wore a plan white tee that had a hole near the hem, under a red plaid shirt.

Approaching the school he hummed “Sweet Caroline” with his hands in his pockets. He walked out into the street without looking and Denise nearly hit him as she was pulling away. “Get your tail out the street!”

The kid slammed both his hands on the hood of her care. “How about you watch where the fuck you’re going!”

“Nasty ass kid. You better watch your mouth!”

The kid eyes got dangerous. “Or what? You’ll hit me? Better make sure I don’t get up because I will put you in the ground for it.”

Denise swallowed hard, real fear dawning in her eyes. He slid his hands off the hood and kept walking as Denise watched him disappear into the school building. “Crazy cracker child. Gonna shoot up the whole school someday.”


	2. Chapter 2

Assistant Principal Haines was sitting at a study area in the library with six tables in two rows of three. Michael sat at the one closest to where Haines was lounging. “Townley! Was surprised to see you on my list.”

Michael had to suppress an eye roll. “Yeah, totally worth it though.”

Haines squinted at him. “Riiiiight. Anyway, small crowd today. Try not to bash their heads with a laptop, alright?”

Michael laughed. “No promises.”

Haines laughed harder then was strictly necessary at that one and went back to the papers in front of him. Two kids came in together a few minutes after that. One kid Michael knew in passing these days, Lester Crest. He was in Michael’s math class—which was impressive since it was AP Calculus. Lester tutored about half the class and sold test answers (even the work for those answers) for a pretty penny to the half that was hopeless. He knew the kid better once, but that was a long time ago.

The other kid he hadn’t seen before.  He was super short, gave off the air that he didn’t want to be there, at the school, not just detention. He held the door open for Lester as the nerd practically limped inside and promptly kept limping all the way towards the book checkout desk. The other kid sat at the table farthest from Haines.

Haines smiled. “Aw, Mr. Crest, doing you civic duty again this week?” Then he turned to the other kid. “And you must be Franklin. I hope this is a onetime thing.”

The kid—Franklin—nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now we’ve only got one more delinquent on my list so sit tight a bit and we’ll—“

Suddenly the door was kicked open. “Helloooo, ladies!”

Michael felt his face pale. He knew that crazy yell without turning around.

Haines groaned. “Sit down, Trevor.”

Finally risking a look, Michael confirmed that it was in fact Trevor Philips.

This was going to be the worst detention ever.

Trevor sat directly behind Michael as Haines stood. “First things first: I’m taking your cellphones. I know you all have one, so fork them over. You can have them back at the end of the day.”

Michael heard the kid in the back groan as they all produced their phones and gave them to Haines. He threw them all of them in a drawer in one of the counters and locked it.

“Well children, it is seven oh seven this fine Saturday morning. For the next eight hours and forty-five minutes—“

“Three.”

Haines paused, mouth hanging open as Trevor and Michael turned to look at the kid in the back. When Michael turned forward again, Haines was almost purple. “What was that?”

“Eight hours and forty three minutes. That’s grade school shit… Sir.”

Haines took three major steps in the kid’s direction. “Mr. Clinton, I suggest you learn some respect or you may find yourself a gold club member of this room by the end of your high school career.”

“That’s where you are wrong, sir. I have mad respect for you. I just also have mad respect for mathematical accuracy.”

Michael snorted and Haines rounded on him. “You think that’s funny, Townley?”

“Hilarious.”

The AP’s eyes went wide and crazy, obviously about to berate him when the doors to the library swung open. In sauntered their Vice Principal, Devon Weston. “Hello, riffraff. Not giving Steve here any trouble are you?”

Haines’ back straightened. “Good morning, Mr. Weston.” Michael snickered as his brain supplied a joke about Haines standing at attention in more ways than one.

“Everyone accounted for?”

“Yes, sir.”

Weston nodded. “I came to get some administrative work done. Just stopped by to make my presence… Known. Holler if you need anything, Haines.”

“Yes, Mr. Weston.”

Weston left, closing the door behind him.

“Hear that.” Haines jeered at the three teenagers. “The Vice Principal will be just down the hall. You want to get smart with me one more time. I’ll send you over to him. You’ll know what real punishment’s like.”

Trevor laughed. “I bet you know all about that don’t you, _Steve_.”

Haines didn’t seem to know what to say to that, opting to ignore Trevor and look resolute. “We’re doing things a little differently today. I want you to write me an essay on who it is you think you are, and why you’re here in detention today.” He pointed to the door. “I will be just across the hall. If I hear so much as a whisper from this room, you will all be back here next week… except you, Trevor. You’ll be back here for the next three anyway, but I can always make it four.”

If that phased Trevor he didn’t say anything. Michael didn’t want to risk turning around to look at him.

Haines glared at the rest of them. “I’ll be back to check on you all periodically. So no funny business.” With that he left the library and they heard a door open and shut.

Trevor kicked his feet up. “Finally. Thought that douchebag would never leave.”

Michael turned to glare, whispering low. “He said to be quiet.”

“He’s watching _Pretty Little Liars_ on Netflix. Noise canceling headphones. We’re fine.” Trevor grinned at him. “Never thought I’d see precious football star Townley in detention.”

“Stuff it, Trev.”

That had Trevor’s face growing dark. “Don’t call me that. It’s been a long time since you could be all buddy-buddy with me.”

Franklin looked between the two of them, obviously concerned. “You two got some kind of beef? ‘Cause I’m outtie if you’re starting shit.”

Michael opened his mouth to shoot him down but Trevor beat him to it. “M, here was once my best friend back when we lived in North Yankton. Got to putting on airs. Dropped off the face of the Earth. Found him in this cesspool when I came to live with my uncle.”

“You and I both know Ron isn’t your uncle.”

“What do you care?”

“Oh, trust me, I do _not_ care.”

Trevor took his feet down, leaning across the table to get in Michael’s face. “That’s right. Backstabbing-Townley doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”

Michael turned fully to meet Trevor’s accusations. “How is it every time we speak it ends up with this same bullshit—“

“Because you won’t even fucking admit that you’re a lying sack of shit—“

“If anyone is a sack of shit around here it’s you, you psychopath—“

Trevor stood, putting both his hands on the table. “At least I’m not fat and washed up—“

“I’m not fat, it’s all muscle.”

“Would you motherfuckers chill?” Franklin finally said over them. Michael froze as Trevor turned is crazy eyes on the younger kid. Slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder to stare at Franklin.

“What did you say about my mother?”

Leaning back, Franklin gave Trevor a cautious once over. “I didn’t mean nothing by—“

“Listen here, you little piece of shit—“ Trevor went to turn around, probably to lunge across the other library table at the black teen, but Michael caught Trevor’s wrist. It was what he'd done when they were little. One touch and Trevor would step back from the edge. Trevor's entire body froze—just like when they were kids.

“You know he didn’t mean it like that, T.” The moment hung in the air and Trevor looked down at Michael’s hand on him like his arm had betrayed him somehow. He tried not to look to satisfied in still having that effect on Trevor.

Something like hurt flashed through Trevor’s eyes as he yanked his arm back, turning to face Michael. “Touch me again and I’ll break your hand.”

It always hurt when Trevor shut him down. Always zapped the fight right out of him. Trevor sat back down as he pulled out a pocket knife and began carving into the wood. It would probably get him another detention added on. Michael sighed, turning back around in his seat. It was going to be a long Saturday.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise bitches. finally updated.


End file.
